


Everything's Ours (For a Few Hours)

by thensepia



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: AAA Ball, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Baseball, Bisexual Male Character, Closeted Character, Coming Out, M/M, MiLB, Minor League Baseball, Oral Sex, Sacramento River Cats - Freeform, Safe Sex is Hot Sex, Sports, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 23:10:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15592845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thensepia/pseuds/thensepia
Summary: One sweltering night at the ballpark, Shaun forgets himself and reaches over to tuck Tyler's hair behind his ear.





	Everything's Ours (For a Few Hours)

**Author's Note:**

> God. I'm sorry.
> 
> So see, what had happened was... I went to a baseball game with some friends, we sat behind the visiting team's dugout, these players with equally glorious hair were delightfully chummy, and... this thing practically wrote itself.
> 
> It was not me and my friends saying "Awwww" in the stands though--it was the girls in front of us, who noticed the same thing we did.
> 
> DISCLAIMERS: This is entirely a work of fiction; do not read this as any claim to truth. 
> 
> Title from Depeche Mode's "Stripped."

The night was hot, uncomfortably so. It was different than what Shaun had gotten used to, not that dry, scratchy heat of California. It was _southern_ heat, the kind of close, humid night that presses in around you, makes your skin feel tacky with it. It reminded him of back home in Florida, where the heat in the dead of summer felt like a personal attack. It had gotten slightly more tolerable as the sun slipped behind the wall of the outfield and the night sky stretched out over the field, but it was still thick and oppressive. He figured there was probably a breeze stirring the air up in the stands, but down here in the dugout, it was stagnant. He had pitched the night before, so he knew he wasn’t going to be called to the bullpen unless the shit really hit the fan, and by the bottom of the sixth it was obvious that unless the River Cats got something going real quick, they were about to get their asses handed to them. Camarena wasn’t pitching bad, but he looked tired as he gave up hit after hit. In the middle of a five game series, Shaun didn’t expect a rally. As he leaned against the dugout fence, he could feel the sweat trickling slowly down the center of his back. Beside him, looking out toward left field, Tyler still had on his long-sleeved warm-up.

“Dude, aren’t you roasting?” he asked in a low voice.

Tyler smiled but didn’t look at him. “Yeah. Pretty much,” he replied. He reached up to take his hat off, wiped his brow and smoothed his long hair back before replacing it. “It reminds me of South Carolina,” he added, his eyes flicking back to the pitcher as he wound up.

 _CRACK._ The batter got a hit, a slow pop fly to center right that Bourjos got under and let fall gracefully into his glove. Shaun clapped lazily, along with the rest of the guys in the dugout. Behind him he could hear the home team’s fans groaning.

Shaun risked a look at Tyler, at the way his jaw moved as he chewed his gum. Tyler caught his eye, quirked the corners of his mouth up at him, and then blew a bubble, big and pink and obnoxious. Shaun laughed as it popped, but then abruptly stopped laughing as Tyler’s tongue chased the gum from his lips, and he quickly looked back at the pitcher, trying to ignore the surge of heat that shot through him. Tyler chuckled quietly beside him, all too aware of Shaun’s reaction.

Shaun cleared his throat quietly. “I forget sometimes that your Pennsylvania ass spent time in the South,” he said softly, watching as Camarena gave up another base hit.

Tyler snorted. “Yeah, I’ve spent plenty of nights playing ball in heat like this, Florida Boy,” he said, but his tone took any sting out of the words, and Shaun knew Tyler was just teasing him. “It’s better when you go ahead and break a sweat instead of just being sticky.” Tyler shook his head, let his hair fall around his shoulders. “The humidity does fuck with my hair, though,” he added more quietly, still smiling.

Shaun looked over, and Tyler turned to him. Without thinking, Shaun reached out and tucked the flyaway strands behind Tyler’s ear, and then did so on the other side.  Tyler smiled at him, a mischievous grin, one full of all kinds of dark promises, but as his fingertips fell from Tyler’s ear he heard two women in the stands behind them simultaneously say _awwwwww._ He dropped his hand and stiffened. _Fuck._ He couldn’t believe he forgot himself for a moment. He stepped back into the dugout, walked over to the watercooler and filled a water cup, turning it up and draining it in one go. He filled it again, drank it all down, and tossed the cup in the trash. He sighed. It was even hotter and more stagnant back here in the dugout proper. He walked back over, taking up a place on Tyler’s right side instead, making sure to leave more distance between them, being careful their elbows on the fence didn’t touch.

Tyler sighed beside him. “Shaun…nobody would care,” he said in a low voice.

Shaun looked around surreptitiously, made sure none of the other guys were nearby to overhear them. “Easy for you to say, man. You’ve already made your debut in the majors, and you know they’re gonna call you back up in the spring. I’m not giving anyone an excuse to keep me in AAA.”

Tyler shook his head, his jaw clenching. “You think it’s easy? Fuck you, Anderson. You know I work my ass off. And it takes balls to be out, in any sport, but fuck, man, it’s not the 1950s anymore. And we live in _California,_ for fuck’s sake.”

Shaun pressed his lips together, watched as two runners from the other team crossed home plate and the fans behind them whooped. He sighed again. “I know,” he said softly, kicking his foot into the wall of the dugout. “I’m sorry.”

Tyler sighed again, flipping his hair back over his shoulder with his hand. “Look. I’m not suggesting you paint your glove with rainbows, or”—he pitched his voice lower—"start sporting that leather getup you wore last weekend in the locker room, but you really should deal with your shit.” He stepped away to talk to Camarena as the team filed into the dugout, and Shaun watched as Tyler handed an icepack to the other pitcher. The bitterness inside him, he realized, felt a lot like jealousy.

 

***

 

Shaun lifts his hand and knocks on the door of Tyler’s room. He can hear Tyler talking inside, words muffled, and then the door opens to reveal a towel-clad Tyler on the phone. A frown quickly passes over his face, but he jerks his head toward the interior in a grudging invitation for Shaun to come in as he moves back into the room.

“Yeah, I know. The loss sucks, but Anderson is pitching tomorrow, and his arm is fresh. I think we’ll take ‘em,” Tyler says into the phone, throwing Shaun a look that he can’t quite parse. Shaun shuts the door behind him, and after a moment’s hesitation, he flips the deadbolt too. Tyler’s hair is down and wet, brushing his shoulder blades and two shades darker than normal.  The towel is clinging to his narrow waist like an invitation. “Yeah. Okay. Yes ma’am. Love you too, and give my love to Dad.” Tyler ends the call and tosses his phone onto the desk, beside the requisite hotel pad and pen. He looks up at Shaun with a resigned face.

“You’re right,” Shaun says with no preamble. Tyler’s face immediately goes from resigned to surprised, and then he smiles.

“Say that again,” Tyler orders.

Shaun laughs lightly. “Don’t you want to know what you’re right about?”

“Oh, I’m right about everything, but I _really_ want to hear you say that again,” he says, his voice dropping slightly.

Shaun slowly takes a few steps toward Tyler. He hadn’t bothered with shoes for the walk down the hall and the carpet is rough under his feet. “I said, you’re right.”

Tyler closes his eyes and smiles, humming. He opens them, his eyes bright, and says, “Okay, what in particular am I right about this time?”

Shaun scoffs, but then his face grows soft. “I do need to figure my shit out.”

Tyler steps forward, closing the distance between them, and he reaches out to put one hand on Shaun’s hip and the other on the side of his neck. His face has grown serious, and he brushes his thumb across Shaun’s jawline. “Yeah. But I do know it’s hard. I really do understand.”

Shaun smiles, quick and tight. Tyler feels his jaw move against his hand. “I know. But, like I said, you’re right. I figure… most of the team will be fine. Anyone who would care that I’m bi… well, fuck ‘em. It has jack-all to do with my pitching, and I’m so fucking tired of hiding part of myself away.”

Tyler moves closer, cups Shaun’s jaw and leans in, brushing his lips across Shaun’s cheek, his other hand squeezing his hip. Shaun turns his head, catching Tyler’s lips with his own. Tyler didn’t shave, and his stubble rasps against Shaun’s chin as he licks at the seam of Tyler’s lips until Tyler opens up for him, their tongues tangling. Shaun gets his hands on Tyler, one splayed at the small of his back, fingertips digging into his spine, the other sliding up to tangle in the hair at the back of his neck, and when Shaun fists his hand there and pulls, Tyler lets out an ungodly noise. As Shaun angles Tyler’s head with the grip on his hair and drags his lips down Tyler’s neck, Tyler huffs out a breathy, “God, I am _so_ on board with this plan.” When Shaun bites down right behind his ear, he moans, loudly, filthily. There is no mistaking it for anything other than a sex noise, but for the first time, Shaun doesn’t care, doesn’t hiss for Tyler to keep it down, doesn’t try to keep his mouth occupied. Instead he licks away the sting of teeth and slides his hand around from Tyler’s back up to thumb at his nipple, feeling the flesh harden as he pinches it and rolls it between his fingertips. Tyler arches his back, driving his hips into Shaun, and he hisses out, “fuck, _yessssss…_ ” as he gets his hands under Shaun’s shirt on the hot skin at his waist. Tyler tugs at the hem, saying, “Off, _off_ ,” impatiently as he works the offending article up over Shaun’s shoulders.

Shaun laughs, surprised by the deep, masculine sound that comes out of his mouth, and leans back enough to pull the shirt over his head. As he pulls Tyler back in to kiss him, he groans as their heated skin meets. He can feel Tyler hard against his thigh, and he skims his fingertips down his side to pull the towel off of him, running his palms around his body to grab Tyler’s ass. Tyler growls, nuzzles under the curtain of Shaun’s own wet hair and sucks his earlobe between his teeth, biting down gently and earning Shaun’s growl in return. Tyler drops his hands to Shaun’s waist, runs a palm over his cock, pressing taut against his thin track pants. Shaun groans and rocks his hips forward to press himself into Tyler. “Mmm, you came in here commando, didn’t you?” Tyler whispers in Shaun’s ear.

“Yes,” Shaun grunts, rocking his hips against Tyler’s hand again. Tyler smiles devilishly and steps back, lays down on the bed—drapes himself, really, gaze hot but his movements languid as he leans back on an elbow, strokes one hand up his cock lazily. Shaun can’t help but notice it’s his pitching hand.

“Go on,” Tyler commands. “Take them off. Slowly.”

“So bossy.” Shaun looks at Tyler splayed out on the bed, watching him like a cat who knows it’s about to catch the canary. The planes of his chest and the dip of his waist are highlighted by the muted glow of the lamp beside the bed, and his chest hair, golden in the light, trails down the center of him toward his cock like an invitation. Shaun feels his skin heat as he looks at Tyler, and he slowly runs his hand down his own abs and reaches for his waistband, untying the drawstring slowly for effect rather than function, and he is rewarded by Tyler’s tongue darting out to lick his lips. He slowly slides his track pants down, pulling them out over his erection, and then drops them where they slide off his hips and pool at his feet. He steps forward, almost touching the foot of the bed, and he takes himself in hand, pumps himself slowly, runs his thumb over his frenulum and watches as Tyler bites his lip and Tyler’s cock jerks in response.

“There’s lube and condoms in the bag on the desk. Get over here and fuck me,” Tyler says demandingly. Shaun huffs a laugh but turns to rummage through Tyler’s dopp kit, grabs the supplies he needs and walks over to the bed, tossing them beside Tyler before crawling up the bed and covering Tyler’s body with his own. He settles in the vee of Tyler’s legs and leans down to kiss him, appreciating the way Tyler’s hair spreads around him on the pillow. He reaches out to run his fingers through it, and he tucks it behind Tyler’s ear, repeating his gesture from earlier at the ballpark. Tyler’s eyes go soft and he reaches up to tuck Shaun’s hair behind his own ear as well, and then pulls him down into another kiss, this one slower but more intense, heavy with unspoken emotion. Their touches become less hesitant, and they run their hands over one another’s bodies with something Shaun can’t help but feel approaches reverence.

Shaun slowly kisses his way down Tyler’s neck, across his shoulder, runs his lips down his chest and sucks Tyler’s nipple into his mouth, setting the edge of his teeth against it and biting gently as it pebbles against his lips. Tyler lets out a satisfying moan that makes Shaun’s cock twitch, all loud and breathy. Shaun smiles against Tyler’s chest as his works his way down, reaching over to grab the lube and flipping the cap, coating his fingers in the silky, expensive brand that Tyler demands. He nudges Tyler’s knees further apart, reaches down to circle his hole, and Tyler lets out a hiss that turns into a low, filthy moan as Shaun takes him in his mouth at the same time he slides one long finger into him.

Shaun braces himself on one hand as he works his mouth around Tyler’s cock, swirling his tongue around the crown and flicking it across the underside, right where he knows Tyler likes it. Tyler wraps one leg around Shaun’s back and lets out a deep groan as Shaun works his finger in and out of the tight channel of Tyler’s body. Tyler wraps his fingers in Shaun’s hair, pulling it back away from his face and watching as his cock slides in and out of his mouth, Shaun’s lips stretched wide around him. Shaun rolls his eyes up and meets Tyler’s gaze as he takes him deeper in his mouth while he simultaneously slides another finger inside him. Tyler’s head drops back and he cusses, and he seems to be undecided about whether to thrust up into Shaun’s mouth or back onto Shaun’s fingers, so he just lies there, trapped by the overwhelming presence of Shaun’s body, and he writhes and moans, making guttural, throaty noises punctuated by little cries every time Shun twists his fingers and brushes his prostate.

“Fuck, Shaun, another,” he moans, his one hand fisting in Shaun’s hair as the other grabs at a pillow.

Shaun pulls his mouth off, smiles up at Tyler. “God, you’re such a pushy bottom,” he says, smiling. But Shaun does as he’s asked, works another finger into him as he takes Tyler back into his mouth, sucking him as he stretches him. Normally, by this point he’s urging Tyler to be quieter, trying to cover his mouth so the filthy noises he makes don’t penetrate the thin hotel walls. But tonight he doesn’t care, and instead he is relishing every single noise Tyler makes, each expression of pleasure he is pulling from him. His own cock, slick with precome, is hard and tight against his body, but he doesn’t want to let up his two-front assault on Tyler to touch himself, instead scissoring his fingers as he deep throats Tyler to see what new noises he can pull from him.

As he brushes a finger across Tyler’s prostate one more time, Tyler bucks against him, biting out, “Fuck, Shaun, _fuck_ , that’s good. But I want you in me, like, _now_.” Tyler pulls his hair, pulling Shaun off of him, and Shaun raises up, fingers sliding out of Tyler, who grabs the condom lying on the bed beside them, wraps one freakishly long leg around Shaun’s waist, and flips them, settling with one leg on each side of Shaun. He rips the condom open and reaches out to slide it on Shaun, grabbing the lube and slicking him up as well in a fluid series of motions. Shaun settles back and smiles up at Tyler, putting his hands behind his head and watching as Tyler settles over him, lining them up. Tyler catches his eye and pauses. “What?” he asks archly.

“ _The_ pushiest bottom,” Shaun says, grinning.

Tyler rolls his eyes and then rolls his hips, sliding against Shaun’s cock. “Like you have a problem with it,” he huffs.

Shaun’s breath catches, and he presses his hips up into Tyler. “Not at all. Now, fuck yourself on my cock,” he says in a low voice. Tyler’s eyes flash and he reaches back to grasp Shaun’s cock as he lowers himself onto it. When he is fully seated, he rolls his hips again, and watches, satisfied, as Shaun closes his eyes and grits his teeth. “Fuck, Ty, you feel good,” he says, pulling his hands out from behind his head and grasping Tyler by the hips, rolling his own body up into him. He pulls his knees up a little so he can brace his feet against the bed, and he thrusts up to meet the downward roll of Tyler’s hips, both of them gasping as their rhythm syncs up. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last long,” Shaun warns, his fingertips digging into Tyler hard enough to leave little bruises.

“Good, because neither am I,” Tyler bites out, his hair swinging. Shaun leans up, grasps Tyler’s cock in one hand and works him as he thrusts his other hand into Tyler’s hair again, pulling his head back and using that grip to set the pace between them. Tyler shouts, drives himself up through Shaun’s hand and then back down onto his cock, and after only a few strokes he comes, spilling all over Shaun’s hand and stomach, Shaun’s name similarly spilling from his mouth. Beneath him, Shaun drives his hips up into him three more times before he comes too, shouting Tyler’s name, his hand buried in Tyler’s hair and his arm wrapped around his waist, and he pulls Tyler down into a kiss as he rides his orgasm out, Tyler’s hands gripping each side of his face as his hips finally still.

Shaun collapses backward, bringing Tyler with him, and they both try to catch their breath. That’s when Shaun hears laughter and hooting, as well as a chorus of exaggerated moans and _Fuck, Shaun_ s and _Oh, Tyler_ s coming from outside the door. He freezes and his stomach dips, and Tyler looks up at him with wide eyes, but Shaun takes a deep breath and forces a smile. Tyler leans forward and kisses him, the softest brush of lips, and Shaun figures _that, that right there_ is worth whatever shit he’s about to get from the team. He touches the side of Tyler’s face, smiles softly, and then rolls off the bed, pulling the condom off and dropping it in the trash as he swipes Tyler’s towel off the floor, wraps it around himself, and stalks over to the door, throwing back the deadbolt and swinging the door open to find five of his teammates in the hallway in exaggerated embraces, making kissy faces and sex noises. He’s nervous as hell, but he can’t help but smile at the ridiculous display, and as he barks a laugh the guys laugh with him and then reach out to offer high fives. “Yeah, way to go Anderson!” Calixte shouts amid various hoots and hollers.

“Figures Herb would be loud as shit,” says Myles, laughing and offering his own high five. Shaun reaches out and slaps everyone’s proffered hands as he hears Tyler behind him call out, “I heard that, asshole.” They all laugh and finally head off down the hall, Calixte looking back, face unexpectedly serious, and he gives him a nod. “Wait,” Mac calls back, “how does it work with two pitchers? Didn’t you need a catcher?” he asks, laughing as Puello loops an arm around him and drags him down the hallway. Shaun shakes his head, closes the door and leans back against it for a moment.

Tyler comes around the corner, gloriously nude and obnoxiously comfortable about it. He stops a few steps away and asks in a quiet voice, “You okay?”

Shaun nods slowly. He figures he couldn’t have hoped for a better reaction, and anyway, the cat’s out of the bag now. If Mac knows, the whole team will know by tomorrow morning. He smiles. “You know… I really am.” He reaches out to touch Tyler’s shoulder, runs his hand down Tyler’s arm and tangles their fingers together. He pushes himself off the door and steps into Tyler’s space, their gazes almost even, and he squeezes Tyler’s fingers as he kisses him chastely.

Tyler grins. “Good.” He reaches down, pulls the towel off his hips, and crowds Shaun back against the door. “That’s good, because I still have some plans for you tonight,” he says, caging Shaun in with his arms as he leans in to bite at his neck. “You have yet to bend me over the desk in front of that mirror,” he says, mouthing along Shaun’s skin.

Shaun groans with equal parts exasperation and interest. “The _pushiest_ bottom,” he says, pulling Tyler in for a kiss that finally felt less like a secret and more like the start of something good.

 


End file.
